I close the bathroom door and kick down the toilet seat. That’s when what I’m wearing catches my eye. A white linen robe that cuts off at my upper thigh. I touch the soft texture, rubbing it between my thumb and index finger. What is this and how did I get here?
A loud bang on the door jolts me out of my daze. “Isa! Hurry up.”
“Hang on a minute!” I call out, pushing the robe up higher and taking a seat on the toilet. Once I’m finished, I hit the tap on the basin and wash my hands. My eyes come up to the mirror in the bathroom and I freeze.
I look the same, only different. My hair is longer, a shade darker. My skin is pale, as if I’ve missed a whole season of summer, and my eyes have lines beneath them that I have never noticed before. There’s another bang and I jump.
“Oh, alright!” I pull open the door to see the man— “What’s your name?” I ask, tilting my head. He’s dressed in jeans and a dark shirt that hugs his muscles perfectly. He is big, burly and bearded, but there’s a softness that lays beneath his eyes. Beneath the hard exterior. Or maybe I’m deluded. That could be it. Actually, that could be backed by facts.
“Max.” His eyes drop down my body before traveling back up to meet mine. “I don’t want to make this any more difficult on you, so just do as you’re told.” He turns his back and disappears into the sitting room where the open fireplace is now blazing like an inferno storm.
“What do you mean?” I ask, falling behind him. “I don’t understand how I woke here. The last thing I remember is my wedding day.” I gasp, my hand coming into view. Seeing my finger empty is like a bullet being shot through my heart. “Where’s my ring?”
Max stabs at the fire with a long metal fork, obviously unwilling to answer my question.
“Hey!” I step closer, my hand coming to his back. “Where’s my ring?”
His shoulders tighten beneath my grip. He slowly turns to face me. “What ring?”
“I’m married!” I yell, frustrated at myself that I can’t remember anything. I slam my mouth shut as realization hits me like a race car with no destination. “Where’s Bryant? Where’s my daughter, Harper?”
My arms fly out as I hit him with the back of my hand. “Where are they!” I feel myself slowly slipping, losing control of what little power I had already. My bones soften, irritation digging its claws deeper and deeper into my skin.
His big hand snatches my arm and flings it away from him as his other squeezes around my other arm. His face comes close to mine. Nose to nose. “You. Aren’t. Married.”
I take four breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
“What the fuck do you mean?” I fail on the fourth because I’m ready to punch him straight in the face and take my chances running. I need Bryant. I need my daughter. Where am I?
I fly backward when he releases me, my ass hitting the wall. Running his hand through his hair, he grips it at the ends. “You’re not married. Not anymore.” Before I can swear at him, he storms down the hallway and disappears through one of the doors.
I sink to the ground, bringing my legs closer to my chest, resting my head between them. “Not anymore.” I squeeze my eyes closed. I want answers. I need them, but I’m afraid that if I sink deeper into my mind, I’ll get lost. Unable to grasp onto what is real and what isn’t, I am petrified that she’ll take over and I’ll never come back….
“Do you, Bryant, take Isa to be your…” I was standing at the altar. Bryant’s hands wrapped in mine, his eyes searching mine eagerly. He wanted this just as much as I did. Our story wasn’t easy by any means, but it was ours to write, and we scribbled it down in permanent ink.
“You alright?” he asked, his eyebrows knotting together.
What’s happening? I never go this far in…
“Yes?” I cleared my throat. “Where’s Harper?”
Bryant’s arm hooked around my waist and he tugged me into him further, his nose running over mine. “She’s fine. Look.” He gestured with his head, where my family sat. There was Lydia, my father, Brianna, my sister, and Jess, Bryant’s sister. Harper was curled in Brianna’s arms. A smile stretched over my mouth when I saw how happy Harper was with my sister. There weren’t that many people at the wedding. Close friends and little family. Devon was here, in the second row behind Lydia. “Nothing to worry about. Can you let us have our fairytale now? Or would you prefer I use force?”
I chuckled, shoving him playfully before we went back to our vows.